


Haikyuu!! (angsty-ish) drabbles

by fromthefarshore



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-03 15:30:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5296637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fromthefarshore/pseuds/fromthefarshore
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a bunch of (angsty-ish) drabbles I'm doing on tumblr: <a href="http://fromthefarshore.tumblr.com/tagged/angstyish/chrono">pairing+line of dialogue</a><br/>(the ships are written in the titles)<br/>I'm marking it as complete because I don't know when/if I add more to this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. IWAOI “I just really need to have you here right now.”

**Author's Note:**

> There's a translation into Vietnamese by Itoh Kuri [HERE](https://goo.gl/rBYf0G)!!

  


“Hello?” Iwaizumi answers the phone, keeping his voice low. He excused himself to the bathroom to answer the call, and even though the professor probably saw right through him he couldn’t care less. It’s Oikawa calling, and he never calls during lectures. “Is everything alright?” he asks and starts chewing on his lip from the inside. Oikawa keeps silent, the only sound coming through is his breathing, and Iwaizumi tries again, “Tooru?” 

“I’m sorry,” Oikawa finally mutters and takes a deep breath, “Could you come?” 

“Now?” 

Oikawa hums silently. 

“If possible. I just really need to have you here right now.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t ask more, he nods, then voices it out, searching his pockets for earphones. He plugs them in to be able to talk to Oikawa and at the same time text Hanamaki that he’s not coming back to class and asking to take his stuff for him. 

He knows what this call means. It’s not the first, and probably not the last time Oikawa calls him like that, asking him to come.  


“Are you skipping classes?” 

Oikawa sniffs, hesitating before answering. “Maybe.” 

“I’ll be at your place in twenty minutes, do you want to start crying now or you will wait?” 

“Iwa-chan, you’re so mean!” Oikawa squeaks and Iwaizumi feels his lips curl into a tiny bitter smile. He is mean, but he knows that sometimes it’s the best way to deal with Oikawa, sometimes it’s the only way that makes Oikawa think things through, realise what’s happening and finally crack a smile that Iwaizumi loves to see the most; even though he would never admit it. 

He knows Oikawa’s not going to tell him anything new. He knows how exactly everything will go. A break-up because Oikawa spends too much time training. Complaining that he can never find someone who would understand him. And a hug that always breaks Iwaizumi’s heart more and more. 

He keeps the little chat going all the way until he reaches Oikawa’s home. He hangs up just before opening the door and is met with Oikawa, a sad look on his face. Oikawa waits for him to take off his shoes and come closer to him, then without any word wraps his arms around Iwaizumi, letting out a deep sigh. 

“Why no one accepts me how I am?” he mutters and Iwaizumi can hear pout in his voice. “Why all of them date me just because of my _looks_ and how cool I am at volleyball, but then break up with me because of the same _volleyball_? Wasn’t that part of what they liked about me? Why do they want me to choose them over what is my _life_?” Oikawa groans, and tightens his hold around Iwaizumi. 

Iwaizumi takes a deeper breath and runs his hands over Oikawa’s back. 

“You deserve better,” he whispers into Oikawa’s ear, and thinks how many times he’s already told it, “I know it might be difficult, but try not to think about her that much. You hear me?” he pulls back a bit, placing his hands on Oikawa’s face, his eyes looking right into his, “You deserve so much better.” 

Oikawa gives him a sad smile. 

“I wish I found someone just like you.” 

“Don’t ask for too much, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi laughs silently, ruffling Oikawa’s hair. The laugh is a bit fake, a bit bitter and sad; his eyes show every single drop of these emotions but Oikawa’s eyes are closed and he doesn’t see it, his soft laugh mixing with Iwaizumi’s. Iwaizumi thinks, why the world is so cruel, why Oikawa needs someone else, someone just like Iwaizumi himself but not him. Someone with a cuter smile maybe, with sweeter voice, who’s going to leave Oikawa again because they don’t get enough time. 

“You’ll find that someone. Who doesn’t leave,” he says in low voice, and when Oikawa opens his eyes, he’s smiling. 

“You’ll also find someone like this, Iwa-chan. I’m sure there’s a girl who will love you even with that scowl on your face,” he lets out a laugh and Iwaizumi rolls his eyes. 

“We’ll see about that,” he mutters and sighs. Because he already found that someone, just that that someone doesn’t know it. And probably he never will.  


Iwaizumi wants to say it to Oikawa, though, he wants to confess every time Oikawa smiles, every time he looks Iwaizumi right into the eyes, every time they hug or stay up late curled under blankets. But somehow, he can never make himself voice it out. 

Iwaizumi looks at smiling Oikawa and thinks again, why the world is so cruel. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry Iwaizumi :/


	2. IWAOI “Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you... ?”

Iwaizumi doesn’t understand how and why it happens. They always fight a little bit with Oikawa, everyone knows it; it’s always just a bit of teasing and a gentle punch, calling each other names that don’t really mean anything, everything ending with smiles and laughter, but this time it goes too far.  


Iwaizumi doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, why in the middle of their little quarrel he brings it up, why he says that they shouldn’t even be _together_ and that maybe it’s all a big _mistake_. 

It’s Oikawa who slaps him across the face, Oikawa who starts crying, this time for real, Oikawa who tells him to _leave_. 

It hits him the moment the door hits the doorframe, loud and heavy, followed by the sobs that escape Oikawa’s throat, and for a long while Iwaizumi can’t move. He blames it on weather, on gloomy days and lack of sunlight that slowly made him feel gloomier and gloomier himself, made him think that maybe Oikawa doesn’t need him, maybe Oikawa’s better off on his own. He brought it to Oikawa in the worst possible way though, and now the sudden lack of warmth that surrounds him when Oikawa is close finally makes him understand his mistake. 

Iwaizumi is usually caring only about Oikawa when the other feels down, making him smile again and forget his worries, but this time, he feels like he needs to do something about himself, too. 

He looks at the closed door to the bedroom, listens to silent humming that’s coming through. It’s a bit off, but that’s not what matters. He knows Oikawa hums this melody to calm himself down, and it also calms down Iwaizumi. He thinks for a moment, then walks to the door and sits down, his back against it. 

The melody stops, and Iwaizumi hears the small thump when Oikawa tilts his head back, slightly hitting the door. 

“Iwa-chan?” 

Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. 

“Ever wonder if the world would be better off without you…?” he asks, and hears his own voice tremble. Oikawa stays silent for a while, then he stirs, getting on his feet and opening the door. 

“I do,” he says when their eyes meet. Oikawa’s browns are surrounded by ugly red and it stabs Iwaizumi with more pain than a knife would. He tries getting on his feet, but Oikawa walks around and sits down, facing Iwaizumi. “I did a lot back in school, back when we just met Kageyama. And I still do now, but you know what? Now I think it wouldn’t be better,” he looks at Iwaizumi’s eyes, then his glare moves to the bruised cheek, and his shoulders drop, “And it wouldn’t be better off without you either,” he tries giving Iwaizumi a weak smile, and sniffs, wiping his eyes and then nose with the sleeve, “Can you imagine, the world itself would have to deal with me. It surely wouldn’t be happy to get this task, don’t you think so?” 

He doesn’t expect Oikawa to say that, to get back to being himself that fast, but the anger in his eyes is changed with tenderness, and Iwaizumi wonders when did Oikawa realise everything. He lets out a puff and bites his lip.  


“I’m sorry for what I told you. And thank you for hitting me with your left, not right.” 

Oikawa laughs at that, even though it’s still a bit stiff, and he leans forward, wrapping his arms around Iwaizumi. 

“Don’t leave, okay?” he whispers close to Iwaizumi’s ear and gasps silently, the tears rolling down his cheeks again. They’re hot and they tickle when they reach Iwaizumi’s skin. 

“Why are you crying now?” 

Oikawa moves slightly in attempt to shake his head, but doesn’t say anything. 

“Hey, Oikawa?” Iwaizumi breathes after a while, “This is _not_ a mistake. And it never was.” 

“I know, stupid Iwa-chan,” Oikawa says and Iwaizumi knows that he’s smiling. 

He pulls Oikawa closer and even though it makes it a bit harder to breathe, neither of them minds. 


	3. IWAOI “I’m sick of being USELESS.”

The moment Iwaizumi sees Kageyama standing at the line with Oikawa’s number held high in his hand and Oikawa’s crumbling face when the realization hits him, he knows it’s the last straw for the other. Oikawa walks off the court without the smile, without people cheering for him, and disappears, not even waiting for the game to end. 

Their team starts playing better with Kageyama - as usual these past weeks- but when Iwaizumi hits Kageyama’s tossed ball he can’t get rid of the feeling that something is off. 

\- 

He’s not surprised to find Oikawa alone in the gym when the sun sets, even though the setter didn’t come to the training they had with the club. His brown hair strands are stuck to his sweaty forehead, his hands red from hitting the ball over and over again. It’s a sad view, it’s not Oikawa Tooru that fangirls run after, asking to take pictures with, but Iwaizumi doesn’t mind. He comes closer and Oikawa casts him a glare. 

“Don’t look at me like this,” he mumbles and Iwaizumi furrows his eyebrows. 

“Like what?” 

Oikawa narrows his eyes and vaguely waves his hand around, but the gesture is forced and it doesn’t have the usual light vibe, “Like you feel sorry for me, like I’m some hurt puppy that needs to be hugged and all the problems will disappear.” 

His voice breaks, betraying him, and suddenly everything starts crumbling down, making Iwaizumi wish that mentioned hug would actually fix it. 

The look in Oikawa’s eyes confirms that it wouldn’t and Iwaizumi grips the fabric inside his pockets to stop himself from wrapping his arms around Oikawa and pressing him close. 

“Oikawa, I know it’s diff-” 

“I’m sick of being USELESS,” Oikawa suddenly bursts out and the words echo in the gym. His lips are in a tight line to stop them from trembling, eyes beginning to water as he curls his fingers into fists. Iwaizumi opens his mouth again, but Oikawa is faster, the words escaping his lips in a shaky whisper, “Don’t say that you know. Because you don’t.” He lowers his head, and adds almost inaudibly, “I’m so tired of all of this.”   


He takes the ball then and tosses it up, but his hand comes late and the ball falls down to his feet. Oikawa looks at it for a moment, then kicks it and takes another ball, “This is so not fair. Why is he better than I am? Why some first year is taking my place? I guess soon the coach is going to make him a starting player instead of me,” he hits the ball hard this time, but not far enough, and gives Iwaizumi a somewhat guilty glimpse, “I mean, he already changed me with him the last few games because I sucked. What does it matter.” 

Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa, but doesn’t say anything. When the words leave Oikawa’s mouth in gasps and whispers, sobs and yells, Iwaizumi figures that maybe that’s what Oikawa needs. Getting out everything that’s suffocating him from inside, crying if he needs to, throwing balls even though none of his serves even make it to the other side of the net, screaming - be it either at Iwaizumi for not understanding or at the whole world for being not how he wants it to be. It hurts him to see Oikawa like this, but he doesn’t dare to interfere. 

He waits until Oikawa lets it all out, waits until his shoulders drop and he takes the last ball to finish it all. Iwaizumi clears his throat, and Oikawa freezes, his eyes moving to meet Iwaizumi’s. He shrugs when Iwaizumi doesn’t say anything, then lets out a puff and throws the ball high up.   


Iwaizumi opens his mouth when the ball leaves Oikawa’s fingers. 

“Toss me.” 

His voice is just loud enough for Oikawa to hear, it’s demanding, not asking, and Iwaizumi doesn’t wait for Oikawa to say anything back. He sees how Oikawa’s eyes start to widen when the words reach him, and he dashes forward. 

It’s fast and for the smallest part of a second Iwaizumi thinks that maybe he rushed it up, but the ball comes to his palm and a moment later hits the floor, the sound of it so loud it’s almost deafening. 

It’s a perfect toss and when Iwaizumi looks at Oikawa he knows that the setter also realises that. 

“Enough of your shit-talk,” he straightens up and comes back to Oikawa, taking him by the collar and dragging him down for their eyes to be on the same level, “Useless players don’t make tosses like this.” 

Oikawa blinks at him. 

“But- It’s not about one lucky toss.” 

Oikawa looks like he’s fighting against himself, wanting Iwaizumi to join the fight to make the result clear, but it seems that he’s still hesitating which side he wants Iwaizumi to take. 

Iwaizumi knows which one he wants to support though, and this time he doesn’t let Oikawa make the choice himself. 

“If you ever call yourself useless again I swear I will shut that mouth of yours with force,” he says, and for some reason it makes Oikawa give a small smile, but the usual glint isn’t back in his eyes. His glare moves downwards, stopping briefly on Iwaizumi’s lips before coming up again, and Iwaizumi knows he made a mistake. 

“Iwa-chan, you’re making it awfully tempting to say it now.” 

Oikawa doesn’t say it because he genuily wants Iwaizumi to kiss him. He says it because he wants to drag Iwaizumi into something that’s not proper, something that would make him hate himself later and find more reasons to think of himself as a failure. He wants to test himself and also Iwaizumi to see if the only person who thinks him worth of something could turn away from him, and it doesn’t matter what the outcome is - Oikawa will take it the worst way possible. 

“Don’t start this now,” Iwaizumi sighs and lets go of Oikawa, stepping aside.   


“Why not? Because it would be disgusting?” 

Iwaizumi thinks for a while, weighting the possibilities of different answers before settling up with the most honest one. 

“Because I don’t want you to misunderstand things.” 

Oikawa looks at him with wide eyes as if not understanding what is happening, as if this answer was nowhere in his mind. Iwaizumi takes a deep breath. 

“If you really want me to kiss you, I _wouldn’t_ mind that, and you should already know it by now. I will do it. But not now and not for such reasons that will make you regret it,” Iwaizumi looks Oikawa right into the eyes and sighs. Oikawa looks at him guiltily and doesn’t say anything. 

“Get over yourself, Tooru. That first year thinks of you as some god, and he’s always trying to ask you to teach him how to serve, but you walk away without even hearing him out. And look around for once. You’re the best setter in our team.” 

“I failed you all during the last games.” 

“You were not in those games, not mentally at least. Your mind wasn’t focused on the players on the court, instead thinking about Kageyama,” Iwaizumi takes a deep breath, then reaches for Oikawa’s head and ruffles his hair, the touch warm and familiar, “Go home and sleep it all off. And if you still think you’re useless,then go ahead and leave the club.” 

Oikawa bites his lip and waits a bit before meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes. 

“And what if I don’t think… that I’m useless?” 

Iwaizumi thinks for a while, his eyes focused on Oikawa, and smiles faintly. 

“Then welcome back, ace setter.” 


	4. KUROKEN “It’s okay to cry…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> life with a cat

Kuroo brings her home in cardboard box, telling his parents that he found the poor kitten left in the streets, and Kenma nods, approving of Kuroo’s story that they came up with last week. They practised it numerous times on their way to school and back home, during lunch breaks and while playing outside, and it sounds convincing.  


(Years later when he thinks about it, Kenma realises that Kuroo’s parents knew that they got the cat from the groceries lady, just didn’t say anything. He looks at Kuroo’s happy smiling face and a fluffy cat playing with a ball, and he thinks he knows why.) 

Kuroo names her Mackerel Pike. Kenma tries to stop him, but Kuroo insists, saying that mackerel pike is his favourite and the kitten would love to be named after it.  


The cat gets used to the name fast. She comes when called Mackerel Pike, and Kuroo’s grin reaches his ears. It makes Kenma smile. 

Kenma goes to feed Mackerel Pike and change her litter box when Kuroo is away on holidays with his parents. He complains to Kuroo, but spends hours with the kitten that makes waiting for his friend to come back a little bit easier. 

Kuroo knocks on Kenma’s doors late in the evening, his eyes teary and voice shaking, saying that Mackerel Pike ran away. They put jackets on their pyjamas and search the streets. Minutes or hours later, Kenma doesn’t even know, he hears Mackerel Pike’s sad meowing from under the car, and calls Kuroo. Their knees get bruised and their arms get scratched, but Kuroo’s holding the trembling cat safe in his arms, and he’s smiling, and it’s all worth it. 

They celebrate her tenth birthday with tuna “cake” that Kenma brought as a gift. Kuroo mutters that Kenma cares about Mackerel Pike more than about him. He’s smiling though, and Kenma smiles back. 

Kenma makes grilled salted mackerel pike for Kuroo. When they’re sitting at the table with the cat playing around, Kuroo smiles, saying that now all three of his favourites are here. Kenma’s cheeks get warmer, but he doesn’t say anything. 

They take photos all the time, but it seems that it’s never enough. 

Mackerel Pike starts meowing when Kuroo tries to kiss Kenma for the first time. Kenma’s laughter fills the air as Kuroo flushes dark red.  


(It’s Kenma who finally kisses him.) 

She starts sleeping on their laps more, purring softly when Kenma pets her head. Kenma looks at Kuroo’s slightly worried face, and gives him a small smile. Kuroo notices and smiles back. He always does. 

They know that she’s getting older a lot faster than they do, but neither of them mentions that. 

When Kenma is sad, he looks at the photo of him and Kuroo, with Mackerel Pike between their faces, and somehow everything gets better. He thinks of the same photo on Kuroo’s wall, and of dozens of other photos, but he feels like they still need more. 

She starts getting thinner, walking away even from her favourite food. Kenma comes over even more, petting Mackerel Pike as much as she wants him to.  


They don’t take that many photos anymore, and sometimes, when he’s lying in his bed and looking at the ceiling, Kenma feels the tears running down his face. When they meet the next day, Kuroo always hugs him longer, and Kenma guesses that he knows. 

Mackerel Pike is getting sicker with every day. Kuroo’s staying at home as much as he can, and his smiles are getting fainter. Kenma wants to tell him that everything’s going to be fine, but he’s not sure if he believes it himself. 

When they go to the vet for the last time, Kuroo doesn’t let go of Mackerel Pike the whole time. He’s smiling at her, petting her, talking to her as usual, and saying that everything’s okay, it won’t hurt at all and soon all the pain will go away. He kisses her forehead and rubs behind her ears. Kenma takes her paws, trying to smile when he touches her nose with his. She purrs softly. 

For Mackerel Pike the pain goes away right ahead, and she looks relieved and calm. For Kuroo it comes twofold, and when Kenma takes his trembling hand in his, he thinks they both will break. 

It’s only when they exit the clinic that Kuroo sits down on the stairs, pulling Kenma close. 

It’s Kenma who starts crying first. 

Kuroo rubs his back with trembling hands, and Kenma thinks that Kuroo probably still doesn’t understand that she’s gone. He can’t accept the fact, and Kenma doesn’t know what to do. 

He tilts his head a bit to catch a short glimpse of Kuroo’s glassy eyes, and without thinking the words escape his lips in a whimper.  


“It’s okay to cry…” 

Kuroo freezes for a moment as if the reality finally hits him. He looks at Kenma, then nods and hugs him even tighter. It hurts a bit, but not as much as inside his chest. 

Kuroo’s tears are hot, and the lump in Kenma’s throat just gets bigger. 

It’s the first time he sees Kuroo cry that much, and he thinks that the tears will never stop. 

And the pain– 

It will never truly go away. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel so sorry if you had to go through something like this; unfortunately, but I know what it feels like :(


	5. BOKUAKA “Please, put it DOWN.”

Akaashi looks calm, but there’s a shadow of fear in his eyes and his voice wavers just a slightly bit when the words escape his lips. 

“Please, Bokuto.” 

It’s barely a whisper, and Akaashi looks beautiful, so beautiful like this, and Bokuto - is it really him though? - thinks that maybe it’s worth staying here a little bit longer - but was he planning to go somewhere? - just to enjoy this wonder of a man - is it really Akaashi though? has he always looked like this? - to rest his eyes on dark curls around Akaashi’s face that is a shade paler than usual - but why is it paler? it’s summer, it should be tanned \- on his long fingers that are curled in weak fists at his sides. Akaashi looks at him, and now his eyes are pleading, his voice low and it brings some tenderness to Bokuto - it must be him, right? he can feel everything in his chest, so it must be him himself - but the words somehow sting. 

“Please, put it DOWN.” 

Bokuto smiles and he wants to tell Akaashi not to worry - put _what_ down anyway? - ask him what is happening, but he realises that there’s no smile on his face after all. His cheeks are wet with hot tears and his hands are trembling - it _can’t_ be him himself, his hands _never_ tremble - and he can barely mutter an apology - for what though? - and Akaashi’s face crumbles, it’s getting into some twisted expression and it’s frightening and he doesn’t look that beautiful anymore and Bokuto wants to tell him not to cry, not to scream - why is Akaashi screaming his name anyway? why he looks so desperate? why he’s trying to reach Bokuto but it looks like he can’t move forward? - but his vision starts getting blurry, and suddenly everything’s crimson red. Something hurts, it hurts badly, but when Bokuto realises what he’s done, it’s already too late. 

\- 

Bokuto opens his eyes wide to the darkness. He takes a few deep breaths and checks himself to make sure he’s alive, even though he knows everything was a dream. He takes his phone then, looking at the screen. It’s barely after three in the morning, which means he slept only a couple of hours. 

He thinks for a while, then opens the chat with Akaashi, his eyes blinded by bright screen. He blinks a few times, then with his eyes still narrowed sends the simple “are you still up?” message. Akaashi has a lecture early tomorrow and he should be asleep, but Bokuto knows him far too well, and there’s quite a possibility that Akaashi’s still awake, maybe reading one of his books again. 

He feels a bit guilty, but smiles when he sees the word “read” next to his message, and it’s followed by Akaashi’s reply that yes, he is up and why Bokuto’s not asleep. 

Bokuto hums, his thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He takes a deep breath, then presses the button for a call. 

Akaashi picks up immediately. 

“Did something happen?” 

Bokuto smiles at the pleasant voice, even though there’s a note of worry in it, and lies back in the bed, his eyes closed. Some peacefulness washes through him, and he thinks, maybe he’s dreaming again. 

“Just a nightmare,” he mutters, and he can hear Akaashi taking a deeper breath. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is calm as ever, and it doesn’t waver, not in real world. Bokuto also knows the look that’s definitely on Akaashi’s face now. His eyelids lowered a bit as if he’s slightly bored, but his glare is warm, it’s asking if everything’s alright. It’s the look he gets quite often, the look that others think to be the expression Akaashi has on when he’s too tired to deal with Bokuto, but that’s not it, and Bokuto knows it. That’s the look of Akaashi silently checking onto him, the look saved only for him that is always followed by a gentle pat on his arm and a weak smile that no one notices, and a silent “don’t worry” that no one hears. Because that’s not for them, Bokuto thinks and he sighs with relief. Right, that’s not for anyone else. 

“It was a suicide, I think,” he breathes and Akaashi stays silent, letting Bokuto continue, “And you tried to stop it, but it didn’t really work. And now that I woke up… Well. I thought maybe you could just stop the dream itself? From reappearing,” he lets out a short bitter laugh, trying to make it more of a joke, but he’s sure that Akaashi knows he’s serious. And Bokuto’s ready for that, ready for the words that are about to come out of Akaashi’s mouth, and ready for the answer. 

“Bokuto, I’m not sure I can stop your-” 

“No, wait Akaashi, of course you can,” he interrupts, letting his lips curl into a tiniest sad smile, “It might not have worked in the dream itself, but that’s just because _you_ weren’t there, it was only part of me appearing like you. But now,” he takes a deep breath and lets out a short laugh, “now it’s _you_. And if there’s one thing that I will listen to, it’s your words, Akaashi.” 

There’s a short silence before Akaashi sighs. 

“I can’t believe you,” he says, but there’s no bite in his voice. “You know, a dream of suicide is not always a bad sign. It can simply mean that some change is coming or you have to give up on something old - and most probably negative - in your life.” 

Bokuto opens his eyes and looks up, finding a small faint green dot in the air where the string of the lamp ends. He tries to reach it, but it’s too high, and he closes his eyes again. 

“Doesn’t it mean there’s probably some failure waiting for me?” 

He hears how Akaashi lets out a puff, and behind his closed eyelids he can see Akaashi smiling. 

“It’s you we’re talking about, Bokuto. And failure would never win against you, so no, I don’t think it means that.” 

Bokuto rolls on his side, taking the big stuffed owl that’s lying on the bed next to him. He wraps his free arm around it, pulling it closer. It’s not as warm and soft as Akaashi would be, he thinks, but it’s better than nothing. 

He hears how Akaashi yawns, and buries his face in the owl, even though it muffles his voice. But it’s okay. Akaashi still always gets him. 

“Hey, Akaashi? Are you going to sleep?” 

“I’m not if you still want to talk.” 

Bokuto thinks for a moment, then smiles to himself. 

“But are you ready to go to sleep?” 

He hears a soft thump - probably a book being put on the nightstand, and how Akaashi stirs, lying down and getting under blankets. There’s a soft click when the lamp next to Akaashi’s bed is turned off. 

“I am. Are you?” 

“Yeah,” he mutters, then tilts his head when breathing against the owl gets a bit too difficult, “Yeah,” he repeats, “I just thought that it’ll be safer, you know. If we both go to dreamland at the same time, we won’t be alone there.” 

Akaashi chuckles silently. 

“Bokuto, you’re amazing,” he says, his silent laughter reaching Bokuto, and Bokuto lets himself drown in that calming sound which makes him think of lullabies. It’s somehow better though.  
“I’ll be hoping to meet you there then.” 

“Me too,” Bokuto says, and also laughs. “It’s so sappy,” he adds, explaining himself, and Akaashi hums in reply. 

“Being sappy is not always a bad thing,” he whispers, then yawns once again, “See you soon then? Good night, Bokuto.” 

“Good night, Akaashi.” 

“And sweet dreams.” 

Bokuto smiles. 

“You too.” 

Akaashi waits for him to end the call, then sends a sticker of two owls cuddling. Bokuto chuckles and sends the same one back. 

He puts the phone on the ground and with a deep take of breath closes his eyes. He’s got Akaashi with him this time, and everything’s okay. 

He falls asleep fast and easy, and when the dreams come, Akaashi’s there, a smile on his face. 

Bokuto sees red again, but this time it’s not crimson. It’s the soft red of Akaashi’s lips and this red doesn’t hurt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let them be h a p p y


	6. KAGEHINA “Look at me - just breathe, okay?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops it turned a bit longer than I expected  
> It's supposed to be angty-ish, but I think I no longer know what is angst and what is not :/  
> anyway, most of this is positive, I think?

Kageyama doesn't know why, but he has always thought that Hinata and water come together really well. He can easily picture an image of Hinata swimming, jumping and splashing in the water, the widest of smiles dancing on his lips as he says that it's not cold and Kageyama should join him. 

This never happens though and only later Kageyama realises that back in high school Hinata had never come to the pool with them, saying that he doesn't like the smell of chlorine, had never gone swimming when they went to the sea, laughing that he just wants to play beach volleyball instead. He didn't think much of it back then, he never noticed Hinata flinch ever so slightly when someone poured water over his head after practice in summer. 

Kageyama doesn't know why, but he has never imagined that Hinata of all people could have fear of water. But somewhere between evening practices in the park, morning walks to their different lectures and trips during holidays, he got to know it. 

He wishes he didn't. And at the same time he wishes he knew it from the very beginning. 

\- 

It happens when the holidays come and Hinata manages to persuade Kageyama to go to Tokyo for a few days. Kenma says that they can stay over at his house, plus there are cheap night bus tickets for those days, and Kageyama doesn't have will to say no when he looks at Hinata's sparkling eyes. 

"It'll be fun," Hinata says and Kageyama smiles. It's always fun with Hinata; he doesn't even question that. 

\- 

They go to Enoshima on one of the days, only two of them as Kenma has a project to work on for his class with Kuroo helping him, and they already met Bokuto and Akaashi just yesterday, and Kageyama's not sure he could spend two days in a row not only with one but two over energetic loud balls of sunshine. And he prefers the bright orange one anyway. Hinata's light is more alive, the scorching of it erasing any negativity around, and as much as he admires Bokuto, in Kageyama's eyes his light could never compete with Hinata's. 

The weather is great, the pleasant wind pushing Kageyama's hair back and revealing his pale forehead that he tries to hide with his hand when they walk over the bridge leading to the island. The ocean is vast around them, and when their fingers brush Kageyama feels as if they're all alone there; even with dozens of people moving alongside. Their eyes meet, the same thought clearly showing in Hinata's gaze, and they both smile before Kageyama snorts and looks away. Hinata's eyes stay on him though, wandering from his face to his hands, then to his legs, then back to his hands again, and back to the face. Even when he looks around, Kageyama can still feel Hinata's lingering glare as if he's never away from the orange head's field of view. 

The feeling disappears only when Hinata tilts his head, looking up at the different ocean above their heads. The blue is softer, more calm, and the little balls of clouds slowly making their way through it don't hurry at all. 

Hinata's laugh mixes with the cries of hawks in the sky as he tries to mimic them, making Kageyama's lips curl at the corners when Hinata doesn't look, but Hinata can still hear the smile in silent mumbles of "Idiot, you're not six anymore." 

Kageyama takes out his camera and after a few futile attempts to take a photo of hawks turns the lens to Hinata. He's more beautiful than hawks anyway, he thinks and clicks the button again when Hinata laughs at him. 

\- 

"Let's take a photo together," Hinata points to a white stand in front of the shrine and Kageyama rolls his eyes. Of course there are special stands where to put your camera for taking a photo, he grunts but still agrees, setting the time and running back to stand next to Hinata just in time when the flickering light on his camera freezes and the photo is taken. 

It's a bad photo, with shadows on their faces and Hinata's blurred arm when he tried to lift it for a peace sign and didn't make it in time, and Kageyama tries to delete it, but Hinata grabs the camera from his hands. That's a photo of them together, he says, and it doesn't have to be perfect anyway. 

Hinata's the one who's taking photos after that and Kageyama could bet that most of them will come out blurry. But somehow he doesn't mind. 

\- 

They walk all the way through the island, getting up and down the stairs until they reach the rocks and the sea that looks somehow more angry, splashing around in spatters and not letting anyone get too close. Hinata gives one look to it, then pulls Kageyama away and to the infamous Iwaya caves, jumping excited when he checks the information from the touristic leaflet they got back in Shinjuku station. 

" _The first cave contains some Buddhist statues, while the second cave is dedicated to the legendary dragon that used to terrorize the area_ ," Hinata reads aloud and looks at Kageyama, "I hope we can hear the roar of the dragon in there," he says with a laugh, but Kageyama can see how his shoulders tense. 

"It's just a legend," he mutters, a grin appearing on his face, "Or are you actually scared?" he takes out their tickets, handing them at the entrance, and Hinata lets out a puff, gently hitting his arm. 

"As if!" 

\- 

Hinata slips his hand in Kageyama's when they go to the second cave with narrow tunnels and just flickers of light from the small lanterns they're carrying. Kageyama doesn't protest though, squeezing it a bit tighter when Hinata in a slightly trembling voice asks what would happen if the earthquake occurred when they're underground. 

"It won't," Kageyama says and Hinata lets out a relieved sigh. 

\- 

They go to the lighthouse observation, and when they're up and surrounded by water, Hinata takes Kageyama's hand again, leaning against him as the wind blows some chill in their faces. 

"It's pretty," he says, and Kageyama doesn't hide his smile when he nods. He doesn't ask if Hinata's talking about the sky with shadows of birds, about the green trees below them, about the city on the other side of the bridge or about the sea with Mountain Fuji blurry in the distance. Or perhaps about everything together. 

"It is," Kageyama says after a short silence and takes a deep breath. Because it really is, and Hinata by his side makes it even better. 

\- 

The sun is still up in the sky when they make their way out from the island, and decide to walk around a bit, perhaps even wait for the sunset before going back to Tokyo. 

Hinata insists on walking on Kageyama's right as they go along the beach, their shoes in their hands and the water touching their feet with every wave. 

"You're too tall, you will block the sun for me," Hinata says when asked, pouting, and Kageyama rolls his eyes. 

"But I want to walk in the water," he mumbles. Hinata gives him a look, then moves his glare to the water and with a sigh steps a bit further into the sea, pulling Kageyama after himself. Some of the waves crashing at Hinata's legs wet his rolled trousers, and Kageyama says that they should change places as Hinata is too short to walk there. 

It's stupid how they start fighting over it, how Hinata lets go of his hand and takes a bigger step further into the sea without looking, it's stupid, so stupid how Kageyama calls him an idiot right when Hinata slips and starts falling. And it's stupid how Kageyama doesn't react fast enough because it's simply water, it can't be that bad, it's shallow and Hinata's not going to actually fall. 

But he does, and there's _panic_ in his eyes when he reaches for Kageyama's hand but their fingers don't make it in time to intertwine. That's not how a person who simply slipped in the sea barely up to their knees reacts, that's not how it should be, and when Kageyama sees Hinata take a big gulp of water just before his head gets under the wave, the thought crosses his mind. 

What if the last thing he ever said to Hinata were "idiot"? 

\- 

It feels like that moment in the air when his fingers reach for the ball and everything moves in slow motion, letting Hinata see the faces of their opponents, every single reaction of them. But the tips of his fingers merely touch the ball and it slips away, and there's nothing he can do, except fall down. The fall is fast, and it feels even faster after the slow motion, but instead of getting his feet steady on the ground, he falls on his back, a second later the salty water filling his nose and mouth as the waves come over his head. 

Everything's blurred, it's cold and his body feels too heavy to move. He doesn't even try. 

He doesn't know if it takes a second or an hour for the darkness in his eyes and silence in his ears to disappear, but suddenly they change into some blurred colours and loud cries of something - he can't make anything out yet. 

Hinata gasps for air and coughs when the salty water burns him from inside, and he can't breathe, can't take another gasp as it makes the water go even further, burn even stronger. He coughs again, and a few more times until he can finally take a breath. 

"Hinata? Hinata, are you- Look at me - just breathe, okay? Try to breathe." 

He lifts his eyes. They sting slightly, but the blue that meets him is somewhat calming. He carefully takes a deeper breath, and feels how Kageyama slowly pats his back and moves his hand, clutching the wet fabric as he pulls Hinata closer. 

"Idiot, I thought I-" 

He takes a deep breath, not finishing the sentence, then pulls back a bit, looking guilty as he meets Hinata's eyes. Only now Hinata realises what happened and he looks around. Kageyama is kneeling in front of him, his slightly trembling hands moving to cup Hinata's face and there's water dropping from his sleeves, too. The wind is blowing and it's cold, but this cold is different from before. This cold makes Hinata feel alive, makes the heat come to his cheeks instead of draining it out. 

They're almost on the shore, the water barely touching their legs, and Hinata thinks how did they even get here. He realises it all happened just moments ago, but he doesn't really remember Kageyama yanking him from the water and bringing him here. 

"I'm fine, I'm sorry," he finally says, and tries to smile. His throat, nose and eyes still burn from salty water, but Kageyama is with him now, his fingers touching his skin as if it's the most precious thing ever, and Hinata doesn't feel scared anymore. He's not underwater, he's breathing and he's safe, and he thinks his panic faded away the moment he saw the blue of Kageyama's eyes. He looks at them now again; there's worry in them, but it doesn't darken the blue, on the contrary, it makes it somewhat brighter, and Hinata decides if he's ever drowning again, it'd be only in Kageyama's eyes. He snorts at the thought. "Thanks, Kageyama. I'm fine," he repeats when the other furrows his eyebrows in question. Kageyama bites his lip, then takes Hinata's hand and stands up, gently pulling him, too. 

"Can you stand?" 

Hinata nods. 

"I'm okay, I just.. Panicked," he lowers his head when Kageyama bends to take their shoes that the waves are playing with. They take only a few steps and Hinata sits down on the sand, bringing Kageyama down next to himself. "I guess there's no way to hide it now," he laughs, but it's fake, and Kageyama slightly bumps their shoulders. 

"You should have said you're afraid of water." 

"I'm not afraid of _water,"_ Hinata pouts and squeezes Kageyama's hand a bit tighter, "I'm afraid when it's sudden or when I can't reach the bottom or don't know where it is or when my head goes underwater," he coughs, then carefully takes a shaky breath, "Do you think it's stupid?" 

"No." The answer is fast and there's no hesitation in Kageyama's voice, "It's not stupid at all." 

"Yeah, but-" Hinata sneezes, and Kageyama sighs, letting off of Hinata's hand and unzipping his jacket. 

"Take off your sweater, it's dripping wet," Kageyama mutters, taking off the jacket himself, "Put on this one." 

Hinata looks at him confused, "Aren't you cold with only shirt?" 

Kageyama grumbles and pushes his jacket into Hinata's face, "Just take it. Or you'll catch a cold." 

Hinata smiles at him, then takes off his sweater and puts on Kageyama's jacket. It's too big and not so soft against his bare skin, and the sleeves are wet too, but it's warm and he feels safe. 

"Thanks." 

\- 

Both of them still catch a cold, and spend the next day in with Kenma making them tea after each level he finishes. From time to time Kenma eyes their shoes that are drying under the air con, but doesn't ask anything about it. 

"So how did you like Enoshima?" he asks instead. Kageyama looks at Hinata, and Hinata smiles. 

"Quite memorable," he says. Kageyama lets out a puff. 

"Did you leave the lock with your names at the Love Bell?" Kenma smiles at them, and chuckles silently when they look away, the red colouring their necks. 

"I told you we should've done that," Hinata mutters to Kageyama as if Kenma can't hear it and Kageyama slightly pushes him away. 

"Idiot, we rang the bell," he whispers back to Hinata, "that also counts." Hinata nods a few times, then looks at Kenma. 

"We rang the bell together." 

Kageyama lets out a deep sigh, muttering something under his nose, and Kenma gives them a soft smile. 

"That's nice," he says, and they both slowly nod. 

\- 

They never tell anyone what happened at the beach in Enoshima, simply showing the blurry photos from the island itself, and talking about things they saw and did there. 

Sometimes while walking together Hinata would move from Kageyama's right to his left, but neither of them comments on that. 

It's a little secret they have and somewhere deep inside Kageyama is glad that he's the one who knows it. 


	7. BOKUAKA "Didn't you see what I did?!"

"I'm sorry, I was wrong," Akaashi says without waiting for Bokuto to look at him, and he sees how the other clenches his fists before taking a deep breath.

"Don't _you_ apologize," he mutters and when their eyes finally meet, Akaashi steps back a bit. "It was _me_ , it's _always_ me! Didn't you see what I did?! I could have _hurt_ you!" Bokuto suddenly yells and it's different from all the usual shouts and loud voice during practise and matches, and Akaashi thinks that until today he's never heard Bokuto like this, he's never even imagined that he'd hear Bokuto's voice taking such an angry note. And the anger in Bokuto's voice is pointed not only at himself, it's also pointed at Akaashi, and even though Akaashi knows that at least this time Bokuto doesn't really mean it and his eyes are screaming that he didn't want to sound like this, it goes like an arrow through Akaashi's usually unbreakable demeanour, and Akaashi's breath catches. It hurts, and Bokuto sees it.

"Akaa- Akaashi, I- I didn't mean it like this, I-"

"I saw what you did," Akaashi mutters, then clears his throat and repeats in a louder voice, even though it breaks, "I did see." He wishes he didn't though, he wishes that it didn't actually happen and they wouldn't be here because of that. He thinks, who is more at fault. Is it really him?

He closes his eyes, and presses on them with his fingers as vivid images come to his mind. He can see it all again, can see how Bokuto tells him not to toss to him, but he doesn't listen. He tosses and Bokuto doesn't make it, doesn't even touch the ball, and it's the last point and they lose the game. Bokuto grabs Akaashi by collar and pulls him closer, his eyes burning, and Akaashi tries to guess if he's going to get hit as Bokuto screams in his face that he said not to toss. Bokuto won't hurt him like this, Akaashi's sure, but somewhere deep inside one part of him thinks that maybe he deserves to be hit.

It's Konoha who pulls Bokuto away, who talks to him while Akaashi leaves the gym, thinking that he's never coming back.

But here he is. Here, he came to apologize after watching everyone leave, something - perhaps the beginnings of guilt - eating him from inside. What if he didn't trust Bokuto in that moment? What if he didn't toss? He waited and waited, but Bokuto wasn't coming out, he never left. And it's ridiculous how Akaashi started thinking about Bokuto's dejected mode, about how no one stayed with him, about how much he actually cares about Bokuto, and how he can't really leave. How he doesn't want to.

But now, as he stands in front of Bokuto with his face covered, he thinks that the apology didn't go the way he wanted it to, and he made Bokuto snap again. And now, after all of it Akaashi feels like crying.

"I don't know what happened, Akaashi, I don't know why, I-" Bokuto takes a deep breath and Akaashi can feel Bokuto's fingers ghosting over his skin, but he doesn't touch Akaashi, he doesn't allow himself to. "It was me, Akaashi. I am so sorry, Akaashi, I- Akaashi, don't-" he hurriedly takes Akaashi's hands and gently moves them away from his face, "don't cry, Akaashi, please just don't- why are you crying, Akaashi. Akaashi? I-"

It's funny how Bokuto repeats his name again and again when he's panicking. It's funny how he doesn't notice it himself, but Akaashi knows it. And for a second Akaashi actually wants to laugh at this.

But he shakes his head instead. He bites his lip and swallows hard, then takes a shaky breath, an obvious lie escaping his lips.

"I'm not crying," and then, "It's just so stupid."

Bokuto stands still for a moment, then pulls Akaashi close and wraps his arms around him. His body shudders, and he gasps silently.

" _Akaashi_ ," he mutters and sniffs, and Akaashi's quite sure that Bokuto's eyes are wet with tears. He returns the hug, pressing his cheek against Bokuto's shoulder.

"I couldn't toss to anyone else. It had to be you."

Bokuto squeezes him tighter, and then slowly lets go, pulling away to look at his face.

"I thought you're going to leave."

"I thought I am leaving," Akaashi says in whisper, "But I couldn't."

"You know what Konoha told me?" Bokuto suddenly asks and Akaashi shakes his head, blinking the tears away, "He told me that I will miss something more important than one toss if I act like that."

Akaashi watches him, watches how Bokuto nibbles on his lip from inside, hesitating, how he sighs and looks Akaashi straight into the eyes.

"So... did I?"

It makes Akaashi laugh. It's a silent, sudden laugh that he can't control and he remembers how once Komi said that he laughs like this only with Bokuto. They've got their bad moments and maybe they're not perfect, but with each 'down' comes 'up' and it's better than moving along straight line. They're full of loses and wins, but just like in volleyball that's what makes it worth the play, that's what keeps them hyped up and that's what makes the final victory taste the sweetest.

"You didn't," Akaashi takes a deep breath, a small smile staying on his face. He looks at Bokuto's open face, at his bright wide eyes, and he leans over, pressing their lips together.

"No, Bokuto, you didn't."

Bokuto smiles, then kisses him back, and Akaashi thinks that even with some lost points their final score makes it a win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> let's say that everything's better with some cheese on top of it because I couldn't resist


	8. BOKUROO “You don’t have to stay.”

A final playoff match for Spring High Tokyo Representatives just has to be between Fukurodani and Nekoma. Everyone expects that when they end up on different sides of the board with school names, but they try to laugh it off most of the time, saying that they will think about it when the time comes and even then it's going to be fun to finally see who is better. 

They laugh at each other's faces when they practise together, when Kuroo blocks Bokuto's spike and Bokuto groans, not really able to withhold his grin. Sometimes their team members tell them to stop practising together, they're rivals after all, but they laugh at that, too. They are rivals, but before that they're something more. 

"I'm gonna be the best," Bokuto mutters when they're eating oden at the convenience store after another practice together and Kuroo steals a fishcake from Bokuto, shoving it into his mouth. Bokuto gasps, then grabs at whatever is left in Kuroo's bowl. He gets daikon, and pretends that it's what he actually wanted as he ceremonially gobbles it. Kuroo rolls his eyes. 

" _We're_ going to be the best," he corrects with his mouth still full and Bokuto laughs, bringing his arm around Kuroo's shoulders and pressing their cheeks together. 

"Right!" 

They're smiling as they greet each other on the court weeks later, and this time it's not a practice game. The crowd is cheering around them, but the only thing Kuroo hears is his own heartbeat in his ears. He sees how Bokuto opens his mouth and suddenly all the voices come back to him when he meets Bokuto's golden eyes and hears his voice. 

"We're the best, Kuroo," he says, proudly, and Kuroo smiles, pulling him closer and placing his hand on Bokuto's back. 

"We are," he mutters, clutching Bokuto's uniform, but his voice trembles slightly. He hopes Bokuto doesn't catch on it. 

It's the final match and after it ends one of them will have to go on being the best alone. Kuroo thinks that probably he couldn't make it and smiles bitterly to himself. It's a foul thought and it's so wrong of him as the captain of Nekoma's team, but he still thinks that if they lose at least he won't get the burden of leaving Bokuto behind. 

When they get to third set, Kuroo wishes that all those things about "friendship wins" from anime and movies, and their own childhood could be true, could be applied now, but that's a real world and this rule was crossed out long ago. 

Friendship doesn't win and neither does Bokuto. 

As Kuroo's team gather around him with loud shouts and happy tears in their eyes, Kuroo smiles widely at them, but his eyes move to crouched Bokuto, to the tears flowing down his cheeks in despair, and somehow, Kuroo can't make himself laugh. 

"We're the best!" Lev shouts, and Kuroo hears his own voice even though it sounds somewhat distant. 

"We are. We're the best in Tokyo," he says loud, but the silent voice in his head finishes the words, _but am I?_

He says he will catch up with everyone as the team is leaving, and no one questions it when Kuroo turns to Fukurodani's lockers, a glint of worry in his eyes even though his mouth is twisted into a perfect smile. Kenma gives him a look with a little nod of his head as if saying that it's okay and they understand. Kuroo nods back. 

You don't go to the rival team you have just beaten, it's not proper, Kuroo thinks to himself, but his legs don't listen to him. It's Bokuto, and before being rivals they're something more; that's what they've always said, haven't they? 

Akaashi stands up and leaves when he sees Kuroo and they nod slightly to each other. 

Kuroo walks to Bokuto and sits next to him. He thinks for a second, then puts his hand on Bokuto's knee and rubs it slightly. 

"Hey." It's stupid and Kuroo curses himself inside the head because that's not how he wanted to start, but now, sitting next to Bokuto, he doesn't remember a thing he actually planned to say. He takes a deep breath. 

"Bokuto, I-" 

He bites his lip, then takes another deep breath. Bokuto lifts his head and looks at Kuroo. His eyes are reddish, but he's not crying anymore. He tries to smile. 

"You don't have to stay." 

It's silent and Kuroo can barely hear it. He starts biting on his lip again and when he looks at Bokuto's smile, he feels tears pricking his eyes. Somehow it seems more like Kuroo is the one who lost. 

Didn't he though? 

He's not sure anymore if he's doing it for Bokuto or for himself, but he leans forward, his arms going around Bokuto who catches him in a strong embrace. 

"Yeah, I don't have to, dumbass," he mutters to Bokuto's ear, "Doesn't mean I don't want to." 

Bokuto laughs at that and he squeezes Kuroo tighter. 

"Don't you lose to anyone else," he says in whisper, "You hear me? Don't you dare lose. _You're_ the best now, Kuroo." 

Kuroo snorts, clutching Bokuto's uniform with his fingers. Losing to someone else is out of question now and he knows he doesn't even need to say it to Bokuto. Even though he's the one who goes further, he feels like Bokuto is still by his side. He's still keeping him company even though they won't be on the same court for a while now. 

It has always been _them_ when it's about volleyball, it has never really been Kuroo alone, and he doesn't plan of changing it now. He smiles to himself. 

"We are," he corrects. And this time his voice doesn't tremble. 


	9. KUROKEN "Shh, c'mere..."

Kenma closes his 3DS and lies down on his back, a deep sigh escaping his lips. 

"Don't you sometimes think what a... sad place the world is?" he asks, and Kuroo hums in reply before the words wrap around his mind and start making sense. He furrows his eyebrows and turns his head to look down at Kenma's face. 

"I try not to." 

Kenma locks their eyes and then snorts silently, a faint smile curling at his lips. He doesn't fight it, he wants it to make all the way to his eyes and then get the mirroring expression on Kuroo's face, but there's something at the edges of his mind and the smile can't make its' way past that. He bites his lips and closes his eyes. 

"But it is, right?" he takes a deep breath, "It's..." he groans silently to himself when he can't find the right words, and Kuroo plops down next to him, a soft hum escaping his lips again. 

"Is _your_ world sad?" Kuroo asks, silently, as if afraid to scare Kenma with the question. His voice is light though, and Kenma feels content bathing in this sound. 

"It's not," he says, opening his eyes to meet Kuroo's. The warmth in gold orbs in front of him feels so close and he wonders, just how is it that one person in such a wide world can mean so much to him. "I just start thinking about others, you know? How happy I am and how- how not happy others might be? Even though I don't know who, but it just... It bugs me." 

Kuroo doesn't say anything back, waiting patiently, and Kenma decides that he can tell more. It's easier like this; he takes a deep breath and slowly lets it all out. "And then sometimes..." he starts, "It's just like a flash in my mind, but it still comes. What if I didn't have you? What if we never met?" 

"But we did," Kuroo says, fast, "There's no what-if here, Kenma. I'm here," his voice is firm and honest; it sounds serious, but there's a gentle note in it, "And I'm not leaving." 

"I know, but- It's like... Some part of me is jealous of myself?" he frowns slightly at his own words, "And it comes up with all the plans that _what if_ something-" 

"Shh, c'mere..." Kuroo interrupts him, a faint smile on his face. He rolls on his side and reaches for Kenma's arm, pulling him close against himself. " _I'm here_." 

Kenma looks at him silently for a moment, but there's no awkwardness, no anxiety and no need to _watch_ Kuroo, so he closes his eyes and presses his body closer to Kuroo. It's warm. 

Kenma can hear a steady sound of Kuroo's heartbeat and, even with all the sadness in the world around them, his own little world is doing fine. It seems as if there's a special antidote that doesn't let the real sadness get through. 

He opens his eyes and tilts his head to look up. He thinks, perhaps the antidote is Kuroo. 

Somehow, it makes him smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in sudden need of kuroken~  
> even though it sounded somehow better in my head


	10. KONOKI(?) "You're not useless."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really like the idea of Kiyoko and Konoha being a couple... I'm not sure if anyone even ships them and what would be their ship name, so I'll just go with... konoki?

_Long-distance relationships usually don't work out._

Konoha sighs, then takes a photo of the article in his textbook and sends it to Kiyoko. 

[ _Can we beat the odds?_ ] he types with a faint smile on his face and puts his phone screen down on the desk. He's not sure if he wants to see the answer to his question. He watches how Bokuto, who is sitting in front of him, turns the page and starts going through the same article. The grin on his lips changes into a frown and he looks up at Konoha. 

"Are you okay?" he asks, eyes travelling back to the article. Konoha smiles. 

"Yeah," he says, nodding, "So far... it's going well," he takes a deep breath and leans back into the chair. 

"You two will manage," Bokuto says, his hand reaching to pat Konoha's shoulder. It feels strange to be comforted by Bokuto, but Konoha doesn't say anything. "I'm sure of that," Bokuto adds and offers his usual bright grin. 

Konoha lets out a sigh, but he's smiling to himself. He remembers the first time he met Kiyoko; he can still recall the nervousness in his stomach when Komi tried to push him to go and talk with Karasuno's manager. He couldn't. 

They did exchange some words when everyone talked in little groups, but Konoha just couldn't think of how to approach Kiyoko when she was alone. 

It made him feel kind of stupid when he couldn't get a good night's sleep because thoughts of her were keeping him awake, and silly when Akaashi asked if he's feeling okay during practice and Komi commented about him having a crush on Karasuno's manager. The worst part was Bokuto hearing about it and then him and Komi not leaving Konoha alone. And he did feel a bit pathetic when Akaashi put a reassuring hand on his back and said that being nervous is a good sign. It shows that you actually do care a lot, and Akaashi thought that Kiyoko might feel the same. 

Apparently he was right, as the next time Karasuno came to Tokyo Konoha managed to start chatting with Kiyoko and even though both of them were slightly nervous and a bit shy about it, somehow their little chat changed to visits to cafes, messaging and calls, meeting each other on weekends and holidays. 

It's been nice and Konoha loves every moment of it, but now, when he's just read the article in the textbook, he can't stop his thoughts. 

It is a long-distance relationship and that scares him. 

He tries to read the textbook more, but can't concentrate on the words and ends up forgetting the sentence even before finishing it. 

"I'll be back soon," he mutters to Bokuto, then takes his phone and goes outside the lounge, getting downstairs to feel the cold breeze caress his cheeks. He sits down on the stairs and finally dares to look at the screen. 

[ _Can't we?_ ] 

He takes a deep breath and touches the icon for a call. Kiyoko picks up after two beeps, her pleasant voice letting Konoha feel more at ease. 

"Are you okay?" she asks, and Konoha hums silently before settling with a muttered "Yeah." Kiyoko lets out a soft laugh at this, "Of course you're not." 

"I'm that obvious?" he lets out a puff, then takes a deep breath. "I'm okay," he says, "Just... Scared?" he chuckles silently to himself, "That's probably not what a guy should say, but yeah." 

"It has nothing to do with being a guy, you know?" Kiyoko comments, "You're allowed to feel scared." 

"I even let _Bokuto_ kind of comfort me," he lets out another chuckle. The smiles and laughter come easier when he's talking to Kiyoko, and Konoha wishes that his own thoughts couldn't cloud it. "It's somehow strange. I mean, I never really thought that anything could go wrong, but then I saw the words written right in front of my eyes, and... Well," he sighs, "It made me feel kind of useless." 

"Useless?" 

"Like..." Konoha drawls, furrowing his eyebrows, "like it made me understand how much I'm not really able to do? And I just started thinking how... umm, for example, that time when you were all alone at home and got really upset? And I couldn't come and see you because of three-hundred-something kilometres between us? This kind of thing." 

"It's just a couple of months before we graduate and I move to Tokyo. Can we beat the odds when we finally start seeing each other more? It said something about having it difficult after only chatting and calling, and such," Kiyoko says and Konoha can hear a smile in her voice. He laughs silently. 

"We _do_ meet though," he says, "I think there won't be any problems about meeting more often." 

"I think so, too." Kiyoko sounds sure of it, and Konoha hums, a content feeling going through him at her words. "So there's nothing to worry about, right?" 

"Right," Konoha says, his lips curling into a smile, and Kiyoko lets out a relieved sigh. 

"And hey, Aki?" she asks after a moment. 

"Yes?" 

"You're not useless." 


	11. IWAOI “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

Iwaizumi has always thought that he's seen the worst of Oikawa. It has always been the memory of six year old Oikawa crying that he smeared his favourite T-shirt with the sauce that doesn't wash off. Iwaizumi can still remember Oikawa's whimpers, their little fingers clutching each other as the tears rolled down Iwaizumi's face too. It was the first time he saw Oikawa cry and he didn't know how to stop him. 

Later, when they got older, Iwaizumi started thinking that the old memory can't really be that bad. Now there were new things he labelled as Oikawa's 'the worst'. Oikawa in middle school when he didn't become a starting member in his first year. Oikawa getting dumped by a girl he liked. Oikawa losing a match against Ushijima. 

At that time Iwaizumi realised that now, when he's not a small kid anymore, Oikawa's 'the worst' is not what appears on the outside. It doesn't matter what happens, it's always just a different reason that hides his real 'the worst' that has always been the same thing. 

Iwaizumi wraps his arms around Oikawa's trembling shoulders and pulls him closer. 

At that time Iwaizumi understood that somewhere along the way Oikawa's 'the worst' has become having to deal with everything himself, plastering a new perfect smile on his face after everything around him and inside of him crumbles down. 

But then Iwaizumi realised another thing. That both when they were only kids and now when they're almost adults he's always been the one who has the power to make Oikawa's 'the worst' at least a little bit better. 

Oikawa tilts his head to catch Iwaizumi's glare, and his chocolate eyes glister with plea, waiting for a phrase that became a wordless promise between them. Iwaizumi tries to smile. 

“I’m right here," he says, "I’m not going anywhere.” 

Oikawa takes a deep shaky breath and hugs Iwaizumi back. 

After a moment, Iwaizumi hears a little cry that Oikawa lets out, and soon he feels the tears start to run down his face, too. 

Iwaizumi can still hear cheerful voices of Karasuno team. He thinks that perhaps it's only stuck in his head from before, but when he feels Oikawa's fingers clutch at him with more force he realises it's coming from the hall. 

Someone congratulates Karasuno's first years duo and Iwaizumi has to bite on his lip not to start screaming that it should be Oikawa who is congratulated, it should be him and not Kageyama. 

It should be tears of happiness and not sorrow, but it seems that no one cares about what Iwaizumi wants. 

He's always thought that Oikawa crying over his T-shirt was a bad memory, but now he wishes he could still think of it as Oikawa's 'the worst'. 

He shakes his head when his minds tells him that losing against Karasuno, losing against _Tobio-chan_ is Oikawa's new, different 'The Worst'; that it's not only the reason for something that Iwaizumi could fix with words. 

Iwaizumi doesn't want to believe it, he wants to help, and he opens his mouth to repeat the words again, but shuts up before anything can escape his lips. 

He knows that this time it won't work. 

Because this time his own 'the worst' is same as Oikawa's, and this time they're crumbling down together. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> somehow this seemed to be a good idea  
> but I'm not so sure anymore  
>  ~~Seijou vs. Karasuno match ripped me apart once again~~


	12. KUROKEN "Please come get me."

"Please come get me." 

A phrase, said in silent, slightly trembling voice, sends a shiver down Kuroo's spine, and he swallows. 

"Kenma," he says, out of habit, "where are you?" 

There's a short, shaky inhale that sounds a bit desperate to Kuroo's ears, and he hates it. 

"Kenma?" 

"I don't know," Kenma says, sounding distant, a bit too distant for Kuroo's liking. "Kuro, I don't know." 

"Listen," Kuroo starts, trying to stop himself from taking a deep breath. He runs his hand through his hair and looks around. He knows it's not going to work, but he still tries it, "Send me your location. Do you think you can do that? Turn on GPS and send it to me, yeah?" 

"I don't know," Kenma repeats again, but his voice sounds slightly bit calmer now, "I can try." 

"I'm not hanging up. I'll wait." 

He nibbles on his lips, his eyes darting from one photo in the room to another. He can hear the silent grunt coming from Kenma. Probably his phone is lagging again. 

Kuroo closes his eyes and finally lets himself take a deep breath. Everything seems real, a bit too real, and it always makes Kuroo hope that maybe this time it's not only his mind playing tricks on him, maybe this time it is actually real. 

"The GPS doesn't work," Kenma says after a few seconds. Of course it doesn't work, it never does, not in Kuroo's mind. Kuroo bites his lip, listening to Kenma's voice that sounds exactly the way Kuroo remembers it. "But I think... I think we were here before. When we followed the cat, the ginger one. Do you remember? Can you come get me?" Kenma's voice trembles just a bit, and he adds in whisper, "I'm scared." 

Kuroo remembers the place, at this point he remembers it too well. It's bundled in with his last memories of Kenma before the other disappeared. 

It's been months ago, maybe even years, Kuroo doesn't know anymore. The time flows differently in his mind ever since. 

"I'm coming," he says, grabbing his own jacket, and another one for Kenma, just in case. 

The night is cold and empty, and Kuroo hopes that maybe this time he will find Kenma. 

But he never does. 

"Thanks," Kenma mutters with a relieved sigh, "I'm waiting." 

Kuroo's mind is telling him that the phone call is real, that Kenma's voice is real, that _everything_ is real, but at the same time Kuroo is sure that if he checked, there was nothing in his phone call history. 

It's never real. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's been a while and I kind of missed writing these!  
> Most of the drabbles here have sort of happy endings, so this time I decided to make it angsty-ish until the end  
> Drop by my [tumblr](http://fromthefarshore.tumblr.com/tagged/angstyish/chrono) if you want to request anything!


	13. BOKUROO “I can't breathe”

Kuroo hugs his knees closer to his chest and rests his forehead on them, hiding his face. He doesn’t know who he is hiding from; maybe from the image of Bokuto in his head or maybe from himself.

He traces the little wounds on his lips from the inside with his tongue. He nibbled on them to the blood a while ago, and it takes a lot of will not to start doing it right now again.

He takes a deep, as deep as being crouched lets him, breath, and wonders what would it feel like to be unable to breathe. What would it be like to see your friend stand in front of you and  _ not _ help.

A silent wail escapes him; Bokuto’s ignoring his messages since yesterday’s incident and Kuroo can’t stop  _ worrying _ , even though he knew this was going to happen.

Kuroo’s known that Bokuto has asthma all along - Bokuto has warned him once they started hanging out together more; they even put silly stickers on his reliever inhaler when Bokuto showed it, jokingly telling Kuroo that it took his first kiss. He’s never had to use one in front of Kuroo, though, and as much as Kuroo was aware of Bokuto’s condition, he’s never though that asthma attack could actually happen, he’s never even imagined Bokuto taking medicine for it or using inhaler. It was always just talks, brief mentions and jokes. It was never  _ real. _

“I can’t breathe.”

It happens suddenly, quickly, and Kuroo sees the bluish tint appearing on Bokuto’s lips, he sees how everything progresses rapidly, stealing Bokuto of oxygen and of aliveness together with it. There’s wheezing and coughing, and it’s not stopping, it’s making Bokuto’s usually pale face seem nearly white, and Kuroo has never seen Bokuto like this, he hasn’t, so it can’t be real, maybe he’s just seeing things, maybe Bokuto’s just pretending, but it’s not funny, it’s not funny at all.

Kuroo’s mind is telling him to find Bokuto’s inhaler, it must be in his bag, somewhere among useless things he carries, somewhere easily reached, but all Kuroo does is stand, all he does is watch.

He sees panic in Bokuto’s eyes and how it takes a few tries for him to open his bag and pull out the inhaler with trembling hands. He takes a puff of it, closing his eyes and probably trying to count in his head, and after a while he takes another puff, and a couple more.

It takes a few minutes for the attack to calm down, but it feels like hours for Kuroo. Bokuto is still a bit breathless, and the words escaping his lips seem to come out with a lot of difficulty.

“That’s-- sorry-- usually- not so- serious.”

Bokuto’s voice brings Kuroo back, and only now he reaches for Bokuto’s hand, not sure if the touch is to calm down himself or Bokuto.

“I- Shit, I couldn’t do anything. I’m sorry, Bo, I-”

“It’s- fine,” Bokuto says, but it doesn’t sound  _ fine _ , not at all. Kuroo tells himself he might be simply making it up, but it feels like there’s a hurt note in Bokuto’s voice. “That’s- my problem,” he adds, and when Kuroo tries to squeeze his hand a bit tighter, Bokuto pulls it away.

“I’ll call- dad,” he coughs a little bit, but it stops soon, “I better- go to hospital. Just- in case.”   
Kuroo nods, and he nods one more time, trying to process everything that is happening. His hand without Bokuto’s in it feels somewhat cold.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asks, carefully, afraid of Bokuto’s answer.

Bokuto gives him a smile, but it’s not reaching his eyes.

Then, he shakes his head.

“It’s fine,” he says.

And Kuroo knows, it’s not.  



	14. BOKUROO "I'm not cut out for this"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my friend asked for bokuro angst yet again

“She’s pretty,” Kuroo says, his eyes following the long haired girl passing the shop. Her hair is dyed a dark shade of brown, but in the sun it looks a bit brighter, lively colour dancing on the top of her head, and the tips of her hair are wavy, just a little bit. She is pretty indeed, Bokuto thinks, as he slurps the milkshake, watching the girl through the window of McDonald’s. She is, except he finds someone else prettier.

“Just your type,” he says when the girl disappears in the crowd, and Kuroo lets out a sigh.

“I want a girlfriend,” he drags out the words, a little whine, as he lounges himself on the counter. He turns his head to look at Bokuto. “Let’s go to the mixer next week? Konoha is organizing one.”

“I don’t want a girlfriend,” Bokuto says, averting his eyes and pretending to follow someone on the street.

“Oh, come on,” Kuroo pokes him in the stomach and gives him a grin, Bokuto can see it from the corner of his eye, “we were too busy with volleyball in highschool, but in uni we could find time for girls.”

Bokuto lets out a sigh; he doesn’t think, doesn’t  _ want _ to let it slide again.

“It’s not that,” he says. He shifts his eyes from the crowd of unknown people he doesn’t care about to the one he knows the best, cares the most about, and his heart starts aching, just a little bit. It’s not the perfect moment he’s been waiting for, but he’s been waiting for too long and the moment will never come, Bokuto knows it, he’s known it all along. It’s a bad moment, but it’s a moment nevertheless, a chance that will pass soon if he hesitates again, and he’s already been hesitating enough.

“I will  _ never _ want a girlfriend,” he says, and he’s looking at Kuroo’s eyes, and he sees how for a moment Kuroo opens his mouth ready to shoot any reply back, but the words register in his head and finally, realisation hits him. Bokuto gives him a smile, but it must look bitter, maybe even sad. Kuroo nibbles on his lip and then licks it before opening his mouth again.

“You want a boyfriend?” he asks, and the liveliness is coming back to his face. “Alright, you should have just said sooner! Man, my talks about the girls must have been annoying, sorry-”

“I want  _ you _ ,” Bokuto interrupts because Kuroo is not running away, because Kuroo is looking at him, because Kuroo is all Bokuto has ever wanted, because  _ he’s _ the pretty one, not the girls and not the other boys, and because Bokuto is in love with him, with his voice and stupid laugh, with his mannerisms and his attitude, with his personality, with everything about him, and Bokuto can’t keep it to himself any longer.

Kuroo lets out a silent chuckle, reaching to bump his fist against Bokuto’s thigh.

“Of course you want me, I’m the most-” Bokuto is not laughing, and Kuroo stops, then he clears his throat.

“You’re not joking about me,” he says and Bokuto takes a deep breath.

“I’m not joking about you,” he replies.

Kuroo looks at his eyes for a few more moments, then looks up and down, letting his eyes wander but never looking away from Bokuto, as if he’s searching for something.

Bokuto waits, he’s rather good at it even though people don’t think so, paying attention to little things only, ignoring the whole picture. His heart aches even more now as he knows the answer, but at the same time he feels a bit lighter, a bit better for letting it out.

Kuroo clears his throat.

“I’m- Shit, Bokuto, I-” Bokuto sees how Kuroo looks for the words in his head, quickly running through the lists and lists of phrases to say. Finally, he decides.

“I’m not cut out for this,” he says, and it’s not exactly what Bokuto’s wanted. There’s a note of regret in Kuroo’s voice, but it’s not directed at Bokuto, it’s coming from Kuroo himself, and this, somehow, hurts even more. There’s a pause, a short one, and then Kuroo adds, “I wish I was, but I’m not.”

Bokuto nods, and then he nods once again, not knowing what to say.

Life’s not fair, he thinks, as he feels Kuroo’s eyes on himself. 

“Life’s difficult,” he says aloud and he slurps his milkshake again. The chocolate milk tastes somewhat bitter.

The same girl from before appears in the crowd again, this time walking with another girl, both of them chatting and laughing. The girl looks nice, her brown hair is framing a lovely face with a cute smile, and she’s heading to the McDonald’s; perhaps she went to meet her friend at the station.

For a second, their eyes meet and then the girl looks a bit to the side where Kuroo is sitting.

Bokuto looks at Kuroo as well.

“She’s pretty,” he says and there’s a bit of jealously tainting him from inside.

Because not like him, she has a chance.

 


	15. TANANOYA “Don't fucking touch me”

Tanaka is pressing the guy, what was his name again, Sakata or Sakai, or maybe Akai, against the wall behind the corner of the gym, and his hands are needy on him, disappearing under the ruffled shirt, his fingers looking even more tanned against the pale skin as he catches the guy’s lips between his, a grin clinging to the corners of his mouth before he deepens the kiss, and Noya freezes, the name he was about to say cutting off before the first syllable can even leave his mouth.

“Ryu-”

It’s not Noya who says it, it’s Sakata or Sakai, or Akai, the guy from their year, basketball team or maybe softball, Noya doesn’t remember, doesn’t want to remember, and he sees how the guy shoves his tongue into Tanaka’s mouth, and Tanaka returns the kiss, Tanaka melts into it, pulling the guy closer, a silent moan coming up his throat, and Noya  thinks, he’s going to throw up.

He must have said something, done something, because suddenly they pull away from each other and Tanaka looks at him, his eyes wide with surprise. Then, he averts his glare, and a blush comes up to his face.

“I’ll message you later, ‘kay?” Akai or Sakai, or Sakata, mutters, giving an encouraging squeeze to Tanaka’s arm, and Tanaka nods.

“Yeah, see you,” he says back,  _ whispers _ , and Tanaka never whispers, he never does, except now the words escape him in a silent, somewhat intimate hush.

Noya doesn’t know what to say, where to start, and even though he knows he should be happy for Tanaka, he feels his eyes water in angry tears that sting, a bit,  _ a lot _ more than he’d like.

“It sucks that you found out like this, but-” Tanaka looks at him, and he breaks off, staring at Noya’s face. “Noya? I- I hope me liking guys doesn’t-” He takes a deep, shaky breath and he licks at his lips, still a shade redder from the kisses, but the sweet delight, affection from before is fading from his face. He clears his throat and takes a step closer.

“It doesn’t change anything, yeah?” he asks, and he puts his hand on Noya’s shoulder, like he always does before wrapping his arm in a friendly half-hug around Noya’s shoulders.

This time though, Noya steps back.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” he says, and he’s not sure if the words hurt him or Tanaka more.

Because it changes everything, it makes Noya’s hardly killed off crush come back, kick him right into chest. Because it makes Noya angry at himself, for staying silent, for never noticing, for making all the wrong choices.

But the thing is, Noya’s not good at controlling his anger; he lets it escape him in the easiest, fastest way, and he makes himself hurt even more because now he thinks he  _ deserves _ it.

He doesn’t think how much it hurts Tanaka, not now, and even though he knows he’s going to regret it, Noya turns around and he runs.

-

He can’t quite make himself look into Tanaka’s eyes after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hmu @ [tumblr](http://fromthefarshore.tumblr.com/tagged/angstyish/chrono) if you have a drabble request


	16. KUROSUGA “It's all your fault”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so my friend was like "pls give me angsty kurosuga"

The match against Karasuno without Suga on the other side of the net is not the same for Kuroo. Mindlessly, his eyes travel to the white lines and benches, searching for Suga, waiting for him to walk up, holding a sign with number nine on it.

He doesn’t find the brownish silver hair, big brown eyes looking back at him or a smile, a grin almost, that would make Kuroo’s own lips curl upwards. Because today Suga’s not in the gym, today his uniform is left untouched and it will stay untouched for days, weeks, maybe even more, Kuroo doesn’t want to think about it. 

But he thinks.

He can’t stop his thoughts, can’t stop thinking back and back, and back, rewinding the video of his memories and trying to see what he could have done differently.

Kuroo remembers his own snorts and cheeky comments when in the movies someone would say it’s better been them who got hurt, would say they’d take the other’s place. Kuroo is all about science, after all, and science says you have to prioritize yourself, you have to be glad you didn’t get hurt as well. Of course, you’d feel sorry for others, want to save them, but Kuroo has never wanted to  _ trade _ his life for someone else’s, never wanted to change places. He has thought, maybe, probably, he’d do it for his family, but he has never imagined thinking such things about a person who he has known only a few months. And yet, he does.

He wishes it was him who was sitting on the back of the bicycle, he wishes it was him who got hit worse, ending up with fractured bones that won’t heal good enough to continue playing volleyball. Instead, he escaped with bruises only, and Suga took all the damage, ending up in the hospital.

Kuroo guesses that the team doesn’t know yet; their faces are too alive to be hiding away such a burden. Knowing everything, Kuroo himself is not good at hiding it, not now at least, or maybe not anymore. He misses a few tosses in a row, his legs don’t want to move as fast as usual and his eyes never really follow the ball. It’s awful.

“Time out!”

It’s their coach who stops the match, his eyebrows furrowed, lips in a tight line. Kuroo gathers himself and looks at the score.

“We’re losing pretty bad, huh?” he says, trying to make it sound light, nonchalant, but it doesn’t really work. His voice sounds trembling to his own ears and he wants to run away.

He stays, however, trying his best to plaster a somewhat believable smile on his face when Yaku groans and points a finger at him.

“Well, it’s all your fault! Start watching the ball.”

Kuroo stays silent for a moment, countless thoughts and images running through his mind. He sees Suga above all, he sees his smile and he also sees,  _ hears _ him repeat the same words Yaku has just said.

It’s all his fault, Kuroo knows it, he knows it too well. 

He takes a deep, shaky breath, and he nods.

“I’m not in the game today,” he says, and he looks through the shoulder to Karasuno team. Daichi is looking back at him, his eyes a mixture of anger and pity. It feels like he too is telling him the same words, perhaps being the only one on the team who knows what’s happened.

Kuroo can’t hold the eye contact and he looks away, down to his shoes. He clears his throat.

“Please let me withdraw from the game,” he asks the coach, but he doesn’t really wait for permission. “Inuoka can take my place. Kai, I leave the team to you.”

When he lifts his eyes, Kenma is looking at him knowingly, and even though he doesn’t say anything, Kuroo can see the unspoken warning in his eyes.

-

Kuroo doesn’t ride his bicycle to the hospital; it’s still in the repair shop, but even when he gets it back, Kuroo’s not sure if he will ever be able to ride it again. He stops at the crossing, angry red of a traffic light stinging him from inside. He doesn’t understand why he wanted to rush so much the other day, why he couldn’t stop, why Suga’s laughter behind him made him feel like they could do anything.

The light changes to green and then to the red again, and Kuroo walks away. He finds a pedestrian overcrossing instead, even though it does take quite a bit longer to get to the hospital.

Suga is in slumber when Kuroo enters the room, but when he carefully takes Suga’s hand in his, Suga squeezes it back and the tiniest of smiles appear on his face.

“Hey,” he says, and Kuroo feels the tears coming to his eyes. “How did the match go?”

Kuroo swallows, trying to get rid of a lump in his throat. It doesn’t disappear.

“Karasuno must have won. I left early,” he says. “I-”

Only now Suga opens his eyes; they look even bigger now that his forehead is fully visible, all the hair pinned up from when the nurse was taking care of the wounds.

“It’s not going to affect my daily life when it heals,” Suga says, slowly and calmly. “And you know I wasn’t planning on going pro or-”

“You would have continued.”

Suga closes his eyes for a moment. When he opens them again, the corners are getting red with tears.

“I am alive, I can still walk and take care of myself, Kuroo, this could have ended a lot worse, you know it, so would you please- just- just stop, okay?”

Kuroo bites his lip, but he nods, slowly, uncertainly.

“I wish it was me,” he finally says, his voice small, nearly a whisper. Suga squeezes his hand a bit tighter and then, he whispers back.

“I don’t.”

Maybe it’s the note of acceptance, and some kind of relief in his voice that makes Kuroo’s chest hurt even more. He thinks it would probably be easier if Suga simply said, “It’s all your fault.”

But he doesn’t.


	17. BOKUAKA "It's all my fault"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: heavy angst, character death
> 
> we started this super angsty au with [tommy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/57cats) and then I decided to write a bit of it down as a drabble, so here it is

It's simply the red of someone's gloves, bright in the street, a bit too noticeable, that brings everything back. 

Akaashi stops in his track, and a few people bump into him before everyone starts walking around, hurrying past. It suddenly feels like there's vacuum inside him, drawing out all of the little aliveness he's gotten back in the last few months, and leaving him empty again. 

There's a blurry image of Kuroo's worried face in front of him, and Akaashi thinks he's talking, telling him something important, but the words don't reach him. 

Instead, he hears Bokuto's voice. 

Instead, he goes back to the past. 

-

"I'm just gonna take a quick shower," Bokuto says and there's a strange note to his voice, a little tremble, a bit of fear. Akaashi thinks Bokuto's might have had a bad dream again. He's just got out of his room, where he was perhaps taking a nap while it was raining. Shower always makes him feel better, Akaashi knows it, and he smiles faintly to himself, unspoken promise to cuddle with Bokuto when he gets back floating in his head. Akaashi's been busy with his studies lately, and wasn’t able to give Bokuto much attention, so it's going to be a little surprise. Bokuto will love it. 

"Okay," he says, not turning around, not facing Bokuto as he hides his little beam. The last second, though, something stirs in him, making him look behind his shoulder, but by then, Bokuto's already closing the door.

The click of the lock sounds somewhat too loud. There's a moment of silence when Akaashi stops typing on his computer, and then, a soft thud. 

It feels wrong. 

"Bokuto?" 

Silence falls again, and Akaashi hears himself swallow, his throat suddenly getting dry. There's a bit of a hurry to his heartbeat and when he stands up to walk to the bathroom door, he can hear it ring silently in his ears. 

"Bokuto? Is everything alright?" 

A tiny shivering starts somewhere deep inside Akaashi's chest as if someone is whispering something to him, but it's not audible, not yet. 

"Bokuto?" 

"Everything's alright," Bokuto says and Akaashi can hear him take a deep, shaky breath. "Everything's great." 

"Open the door, please?" 

Bokuto lets out a puff, the way he does when he's a bit upset, and the image of his bitter smile comes to Akaashi's mind. Akaashi doesn't like it. He puts his hand on the door, pushing it carefully and waiting until it opens.

"I can't do that, Akaashi. I can't let you in." 

Akaashi freezes, but he sees how his fingers twitch a little bit. He takes a deep breath.

"Bokuto, what are you-" 

"Don't open the door yourself, Akaashi." 

Bokuto's voice is shaky now and instantly, Akaashi feels a heavy lump form in his throat. "Promise me, later you won't open the door yourself," Bokuto says and it's wrong, it's not just a bad dream, it's not just a quick shower, it's not just the lock on the doors. 

"It's not funny," Akaashi says, the words cutting his throat. He takes another deep breath and looks around, searching for something, even though he doesn't know himself what. The thudding of his heartbeat rings louder in his ears and he tries to count in his head to keep himself calm. It doesn't help, though, instead making him realise that he's just wasting the time. He bites at his lip and grabs the door handle, but it doesn't move. Part of him has already realised where this is going, what is happening, that he should have seen it coming, and despite himself, the tears start watering his eyes. "Please, just..." he tries to stop his voice from trembling, but it breaks off, "just open the door." 

"Kuroo will come soon," Bokuto says and Akaashi can pick on a smile, albeit sad, in his voice. "I asked him. It'll all be alright, Akaashi, I promise. I'm gonna-- I'm gonna be there, somewhere, with you, okay? Not an unstable psycho anymore, not a bother-"

"No," Akaashi hears himself say, feels himself try to open the door one more time, and one more, as he repeats again, and again, and again, "No, no." 

"It's not gonna open. It's for the better."

Akaashi's voice, and his body as well, is shaking when the words start spilling from his mouth.

"You're not a bother, you never were, Bokuto, listen to me." It's washed with tears, salty with pain, stinging his eyes and ready to choke him with every word. How is  _ any _ of this for the better, part of his is screaming inside while he tries to talk, to keep Bokuto here, listening. "You're not a psycho, don't say that, please come out, Bokuto, please, open the door, I need you, you know that, and it's gonna be fine, it's gonna be great with you with us, all of us together, we can go to eat yakiniku again, Bokuto, I love you, don't go away, don't leave. You're important, Bokuto, this-" Akaashi gasps, out of breath, and a sob comes out instead of the words. "-the door, please." He falls down on his knees, pressing his body against the door where Bokuto is sitting on the other side. "Open the fucking door, Koutarou. I beg you." 

Everything is a blur, until there's a sharp intake of breath on the other side. Akaashi can feel it when Bokuto leans his head back, resting it against the door, right under Akaashi's fingers. When he hears Bokuto's voice again, it's shaking, and it's scared.

"Let's meet again, Akaashi." 

It's a sob as well, and it's wrong, and Akaashi hates it, but before he can say anything, there's a click, and then, there's a loud bang.

Everything stops.

\- 

Akaashi doesn't remember it, but he's heard Kuroo talking to the doctor that he found Akaashi crouching in a pool of blood at the door to the bathroom, trying to scratch it open. His screams were tearing his vocal cords apart, and the tears were flowing from his empty, dead eyes without stopping, just like the rain on that day. 

What Akaashi remembers is the red on his hands. Red of both his and Bokuto's blood that he still sees, even now, even after Kuroo's washed his hands again, and again, and again. 

What he remembers, is his own words: “It’s all my fault.” 

And no Bokuto to say it wasn't.


End file.
